Resolution
by Taywen
Summary: Even if you could tell him all the reasons why, would he even understand? Obito and Kakashi, at the end. Second person POV. Character death. Spoilers for recent manga chapters.


Disclaimer: Naruto does not in any way belong to me, it's the property of Kishimoto, etc.

* * *

Resolution

* * *

_you want a revelation_

_you want to get "right"_

_but it's a conversation _

_I just can't have tonight_

_you want a revelation_

_(some kind of resolution)_

_you want a revelation_

_- no light no light, Florence + the Machine_

* * *

"Obito," he says, repeating that now-meaningless word like a broken record. (You're one to talk about being broken.) "Obito. Why?"

You glare at him. "Hatake," you parrot back mockingly. "What do you want me to say?"

You don't even know what he's asking, not really. It was obvious back then, when you were both still shinobi of Konoha - you struggling weakly for Uchiha excellence, Kakashi effortlessly perfect - that you were nothing alike. You were already walking different paths - they just happened to be side by side.

Does he want to know how things came to this? You could tell him about how easy it was to insinuate yourself into Kirigakure, smooth and nearly painless, like a lethal injection. And afterwards, when Nagato came crying to you after Hanzo and Danzo killed Yahiko, how effortlessly you manipulated the boy with Madara's eyes into becoming your puppet. How you recruited other disillusioned shinobi into Akatsuki, and changed the revolutionary organization into something else entirely. Maybe you should relate how the jinchuuriki fell one by one, usually with minimal resistance on the parts of the Hidden Village that housed them.

Perhaps he's asking how you turned out like this, but you already told him, didn't you? It's because he killed Rin. You had this one idealized, idolized, _sacred_ idea in your mind. The image of a perfect shinobi team. Minato-sensei to guide the three of you, you and Kakashi to kill the bad guys and save the day, Rin to provide support and heal your injuries at the end of the day. Maybe you wouldn't all get along perfectly, but the understanding that, at the end of the day, you were all there for each other would make up for it. Except you died beating the bad guys, and then Minato-sensei wasn't there when he should have been and Kakashi killed Rin and it all went to hell.

You could tell him about your family - maybe he'd understand that, it's not dissimilar from his own life, is it? Your mothers died when you were young, and your fathers let you down, but it's really not that simple. He never had to worry about living up to clan expectations, never had to live in the shadow of a more talented teammate who was everything you should have been. His father didn't rage about what a failure his pathetic son was, didn't drink himself into a stupor and his father probably didn't hit him except for training. You were both left with nothing but your team to comfort yourself, except he didn't even appreciate that, did he?

Even if you could tell him all of this, would he understand?

You doubt it.

"Tell me how you could do this," Kakashi demands, equal parts helpless and furious. Despairing but still defiant. "Obito!"

To answer that would take more time than he has left. Madara is nearly done. Things have almost come to an end.

(Not _the_ end. Just _an_ end. Full circle, perhaps.)

"Words are meaningless," you tell him, again.

(It's not a plea for understanding, it's a simple statement of fact.)

"Obi-"

He doesn't finish; you stop him from uttering what used to be your name once more. You tire of his utter incomprehension

"Kakashi," you whisper, a sick parody of Rin's last word - except you're the one with your hand through his chest, not the other way around.

He chokes, blood staining that omnipresent mask of his, but he doesn't say anything.

Maybe he does understand, after all.

You drop the body. Once upon a time, the noise your hand makes exiting his chest might have made you sick; now you don't even blink as the body falls.

(You don't think about the reasons why you saved him for last, because foolish notions of bonds and loyalty are for naive children, not hardened criminals.)

"Ready, Obito?" Madara asks, having finished sealing the remnants of the Hachibi and the Kyuubi. He's the picture of health and vitality, apart from the hairline cracks marring the surface of his youthful face.

You nod curtly, and Madara begins the sequence of hand signs.

The world is (re)made.


End file.
